


Instars

by HostisHumaniGeneris



Category: Biohazard | Resident Evil (Gameverse)
Genre: Body Horror, F/M, Femdom, Futanari, Girl Penis, Infected Characters, Transformation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-25
Updated: 2018-09-25
Packaged: 2019-07-17 08:26:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,891
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16091810
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HostisHumaniGeneris/pseuds/HostisHumaniGeneris
Summary: Chris Redfield held the line against Alexia Ashford, and failed.  She's more interested in examining the changes she went through using the nearest convenient person than simply killing him--although by the end of it, Chris might've wished she had.





	Instars

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Silex](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Silex/gifts).



Chris rolled out of the way of the gout of fire, then scrambled to his feet and fired a few shots.  Alexia hissed and flinched, but swung her arm again, forcing Chris back.  His gun clicked empty, and as he swapped magazines, another burst of fire backed him.  Up.  Against something solid.

She had backed him into a corner.

The heat was only part of the cause of his perspiration as he fired off more rounds as Alexia nonchalantly approached through the fire.  And she was grinning.    The bullets didn’t drop her in time, and she swiped her arm, batting Chris’s gun out of his hands.  Then her right hand wrapped around his neck.  The hand felt like a hot vice against his throat, and Chris kicked her abdomen and punched her ineffectually.

He unsheathed his knife and tried to stab her arm.  The steel glanced off of chitin repeatedly.  As his head began to swim, Chris glanced her over.  Her right arm, left leg, and patches of her torso were covered in dark green patches of armor, while her belly, neckline, and face were paler and looked comparatively soft.  Face wasn’t a good target; armor enveloped her head like a shell, with half her face, the one she was presenting to Chris, outright covered.

Throat it was.

She caught his wrist with her free hand when he tried to plunge the knife in her neck.  She turned her head to look at him eye-to-eye, and chidingly shook her head.  Her grip on his wrist tightened until the knife dropped to the ground.  She watched it fall, then turned her attention back to him.

She flung him, well over the flaming ichor on the ground.  He raised his arms to take the brunt of the impact as he landed facedown and skidded to his halt.  He planted his hands on the floor and slowly, haltingly tried to push himself up, before something gripped the back of his shirt collar and yanked, pulling him to his feet.  It was Alexia, who did it one-handed.  On rubbery legs he tried to struggle free.  The one eye she could see, studied him intensely, eye looking up and down.  She grinned.

He tried to wrest free of her grasp, kicking at her legs, clawing at her arm, accomplishing absolutely nothing.

Until she let go of his shirt and he twisted off balance.  Alexia struck him in the chest with her palm, sending him flying until he landed on his back.  The back of his head bounced off the floor.  His vision blurred and his ears rung, with the taste of blood on his tongue.  She was practically on top of him in the time it took for him to regain his sense.  He tried to sit up with a pained groan, only for her to plant her foot on his chest and shove him back to the floor. 

She was smiling maniacally now.  Chris tried to lift her foot from his chest, maybe managing to lift it an inch before she shifted her weight, stamping back down and grinding her heel into his sternum.  She tittered in amusement before saying. “Determined little ant.”

“Go to hell!”

She stooped over and slapped him across his face, hard enough that he blacked out for a minute.  He blinked repeatedly, trying to make the world stop spinning, before she gripped his chin and forced her to look at him.

She dropped down, straddling his chest, knees pinning his arms down.  He kicked and thrashed underneath her as she moved his head from side to side, scrutinizing him intently.

“You look like the girl.”  She said as her yellow eye roved over his face erratically. “Family resemblance?”

“Go f…” Chris started, before Alexia covered his mouth with her palm.  Nails dug into his cheek, and he could feel it getting warmer.  “mmphoooo”

“Answer the question or I’ll burn out your tongue.” Alexia chided.  She wasn’t _mad_ , if anything she sounded amused.  Like she was looking for an excuse to indulge herself.  “Now… you came here for her.  Who is she to _you_?”

She removed her hand, making a point to drag her nails against his skin, opening four shallow parallel lines in his cheek as she did so.  Chris took in a deep breath; even if he wasn’t pinned helplessly underneath her, he needed heavier firepower in order to deal with her.  There weren’t any better options right now.  Keeping her talking could stall for time, maybe get her to lower her guard anything.    “She’s my sister.”

Alexia started laughing again, quite obviously amused.  Then her head snapped down and her face twisted in anger.  She snarled. “She and her friend took my brother from me.”

Chris bucked with all his might, managing to accomplish absolutely nothing while she reached her hand down.  She gently stroked the cuts she’d put in his cheek, causing him to grimace at the burning sensation.  He glared at her face, back to that smug, self-satisfied smarik.  “Just do it already.”

“Hm… I’ve seen to it that the murderer will deal with your sister…” She said, prompting renewed thrashing from Chris.  Alexia ignored his struggles, planting her hands on his shoulders and moving backwards on to of Chris.  “…but I still feel I’m owed for dear Alfred. You’re hardly worthy—inferior stock.  But acceptable—at least to see how I’ve changed.”

“Wha-?” Chris began before Alexia leaned forward, planting her lips against his.  He let out a groan as something long and slimy ran against his tongue.  The roof of his mouth and tongue burned for a split second, which faded rapidly.  The cut where his teeth opened up the inside of his cheek throbbed.  He planted his hands on her sides and tried to pry him off, while she held him down tightly.

Alexia broke the kiss and leaned back up.  She ignored him, looking like she was considering something, deep in concentration, before gripping the collar of his shirt pulling.  She rent the fabric to scraps, before shoving him back down.  He kicked and thrashed underneath her, accomplishing little as she prodded and rubbed and scratched at his back and torso all the while, holding him facedown as she ran fingers down his spine; flipping him on his stomach while studying his chest. 

Her gaze shifted from him down to herself, apparently taking stock of the changes she went through for the first time; as if she hadn’t just been throwing fire around the room.  She ran a hand down her chest, cupping one of her breasts, before running it down her belly and beyond, to the patch of armor over her crotch. 

Chris looked up at the crazy freak, leaning forward with a wracking cough.  Alexia wrapped her arms around him and held her against his chest dragging nails against the back of his neck, right along his spine.  Face pressed against hard, rough chitin, he looked up at her.  He blinked as his vision blurred.  About the only thing that remained crystal clear to him was that yellow eye glaring down at him, although he could make out the smile she had on her face too.

She stood up, and his eyes drifted down, looking at dark shell, then pale skin crossed with black veins and more shell.   Something twisted and moved and it took too long for him to decide it wasn’t just his eyes playing tricks with him, but the armor over her crotch shifting.  A red slash appeared in all of the green.

Gripping his head tightly between her hands, she forced him against herself, grinding against his face.  After a few seconds, she growled angrily.  “You do know what to do, don’t you?”

He grumbled inarticulately against her.

“You’re lucky you amuse me so.” She chided again. 

Without any other option as he felt the pressure against his skull increase, he stuck his tongue out, and into Alexia, earning and approving whine from her.  He licked and nipped and felt something burn against his tongue again as he lapped at her.  For her part, she critiqued him, he could definitely use improvement, but was acceptable for now.  Something squirmed against his tongue, but she held him fast while he tried to pull away. She drummed one of her fingers against the back of his skull, sighing when he found a particularly sensitive spot.

The squirming inside Alexia increased, as did her groans and whines against him.  She threw her head back and yelped, and _something_ fleshy and solid protruded from her slit, inside his mouth.  Their eyes met, and she allowed Chris the opportunity to pull his head back.  They both looked at the solid, pale pink bundle of tissue protruding from her body.

“That’s new.” Alexia said, fascinated.  “Very interesting.”

Chris had some other words for what he was seeing, but she pulled him in close and the swelling organ filled his mouth.  She fucked his face with wild abandon, her hands holding him in place while her hips pistoned back and forth.  He gagged and coughed, and a pointy bit of her shell nicked him as she kept thrusting in, groaning and growling.

When she howled again, something burned its way down his throat.  She stepped took a step back, and Chris drew in a deep breath before trying to retch.  He ran his tongue along his front teeth.  There was no feeling in it anymore, and that lack of feeling was starting to spread from his stomach up as well.  He just felt hollow.  He only semi-articulately managed a “What the fuck.”

“It appears there have been some… changes.” Alexia said, appraising herself.  “Not at all unpleasant though.”

He spat at her, the glob missing her face and landing about neck level.  He was pretty sure it was red.  He wasn’t sure if it was blood from the initial cut or something else.  With a sigh, Alexia shoved him back to the ground and grabbed the waistband of his pants.  She tore the fabric away, her hand falling on his cock.  Somehow, he was already half-hard—the green, burning monster was abjectly disgusting, but he was getting hard before she even touched him.  He tried to slam his eyes shut, think of something horrific as she began stroking him, something to stop him from reacting to that warm hand working him.

His mind was drawing a blank, except for just picturing the insane bug-woman currently standing over him, fondling his cock. 

She had him at full attention by the time he forced his eyes back open.  He tried to shove her away, but he was so tired.  He only managed to raise one arm to put it against her, and in the blurry half-sight he had, he had a hard time telling where his hand stopped and her body began.  Both were the same shade.  She ran her fingers along his arm, the feeling deadened in patches.  “I think I might have to keep you around.”

He was undoubtedly infected. This was bad.

She flipped him over and he was just limp as she gripped his hips and lined herself up with his ass.  The cock, or clit, or whatever the fuck it was, shoved in with little fanfare, eliciting a muffled groan from him.  Alexia’s rhythm was the same as it had been when she was face-fucking him, fast and hard.  He barely felt it, though it should’ve been painful.

She gripped his shoulders hard enough to break skin as she continued to drive in harder and harder until he did start to cry out, his voice mixing with hers.  She’d been babbling throughout the experience, he could maybe one out of ever five words or so.  Aristocratic bullshit.  He just coughed and let the world spin around him.

When something warm filled him and she pulled out contentedly, he assumed it was over.  He was right, almost.  She flipped him over and straddled him again, ranting about how he already was showing some improvements.  She lowered herself down, burning hot, wet, and tight against him.  He growled inarticulately, through a mouth that felt like it was full of marbles.  The sound of his voice was garbled to his ears; he couldn’t tell if it was his hearing, his voice, or both.

Alexia rode him hard and fast, planting her hands on his chest as she did so.  Chris mostly zoned in and out, not paying much attention as to what was happening.

 

* * *

* * *

 

He woke up to the smell of burned wood, plastics, and sex, head swimming.  He was confused, so much was hard to parse.  He rolled over onto his stomach and pushed himself up with his right arm—the left protruded at an angle that made it impossible to really push off the ground with both arms and the right was longer, stronger.  He got to his feet and wavered, trying to find a good position.  Maintaining his balance was a struggle, and trying to remember why it was so hard to do so, or if he was always this unabalanced was even moreso.  Flashes of _her_ hit his mind, rambling about a family resemblance.  Him on his knees in front of _her_ —explained why the air smelled of sex.  Her leaving him lying spent and insensate on the floor, with the promise to return once she made sure the girl had been taken care of.

 _She_ would return.  He could stay until then.  He wanted to.

But if he helped her take care of business, maybe she would have something special for him.  He'd been standing there waiting for an amount of time he couldn't really parse before that thought struck him.  That thought got him to move.  He had difficulty at first, until he found a good rhythm walking and steadying himself with his right hand.  The left waved out, doing what it could to maintain balance. His feet found the floor and he stepped forward, smashing through doors.  He had _her_ scent… maybe.  He wasn’t quite sure it was scent.  But he could follow _her_ , he picked up the trail.  And so he did.

He found her with another female.  Small.  Fleshy and pink.  Not like them at all.  The new girl in red was all wrong, and she was trying to hurt Her.  He had to do something.  She stepped aside to let him deal the with the new girl, charging in on his hindpaws and right forepaw.  His bulk send the new girls sprawling, and he leaned down to pick her up with the left hand; a paw the size of her head clamed over her shoulder and lifted her.  His left couldn't reach the floor without leaning awkwardly, but his right couldn't lift things to his mouth, period.  His jaw unhinged.

“Chris!” The new girl shouted.

He blinked.  _She_ walked in close, demanding he kill Alfred’s murderer.

Alfred…

Alfred and Alexia.

The girl in his grasp was so close he could almost taste her blood on his tongue as she pounded futilely, frantically saying "No." 

That hurt him for some reason.  Not physically, but it hurt him.   _She_ repeated her command, but he didn't heed although part of him shrieked that he had to.  Dim sparks of memories collided and lit up like a bonfire, as he leapt from stray throught to stray thought.  He was a mess in the head, but he could remember _she_ was Alexia Ashford.  The new girl, weak and pink and wrong, was Claire Redfield, and she wasn’t wrong.  He and Alexia… their existence, what they were was all wrong.

 _She_ ordered again, stepping in close.  WIth a throaty purr that felt good in his head, she mentioned how grateful she would be.  That brought Claire another few inches nearer to his teeth.  Claire screamed his "Chris" again.  HIs name, again.  HIs name.  He threw her backwards, sending her sprawling to the metal.  It was rough, but he needed to have her have distance, because he wanted her to die and live and both were competing and he needed to simplify things.  He took a step forward, fully intending to dash Claire's brains out when he paused and wheeled around.  

Alexia was shocked when he grabbed her, and proceeded to beat her against the metal catwalk over and over again.  Fire covered him, burned him as he did so, but soon enough the catwalk, softened by Alexia's blood eating at it, gave and with a final slam there was nothing stopping her from plummeting downwards.  Chris shook his head.  Shook the rest of himself, growling as the flames on him died down.

“Chris!” The new—Claire shouted, looking at him.  He turned and looked at her, seeing her face white, eyes wet.  “Oh my god, are you…”

Something about the way she couldn’t look him in the eye or complete that sentence hurt.

He had to figure out why.  He hunched down low, kept his head facing away as he stared at her out the corner of his eye and approached, slowly.  There was so much wrong, he needed help sorting things out.  He was fairly sure that what he had done to Alexia was right, even if it ate him up alive doing so, but beyond that he was confused.  She was Claire Redfield.  

She could help him.


End file.
